Humour Me, Granger
by wordwrighter
Summary: He has one chance to be honest with her, and he takes it. Set in fourth year after the Yule Ball. Short and sweet Dramione oneshot. Please read and review!


**A.N.: This is just a quick diversion while I work on my Tomione multichapter. I'm off school for this week so I have quite a lot of time to write. Please read and review! Thanks, wordwrighter xx**

 **Humour** **Me, Granger**

"Where have you been?" she yelled. "Never mind…" she furiously wiped tears from her face as Potter hung awkwardly to the side. He looked as though he wanted to comfort her, but was too scared to. Draco could relate to that, but he thought it was pretty pathetic all the same when Potter abruptly turned and hurried up the steps, presumably to find the Weasel, leaving Granger alone on the steps.

She stood up, having managed somehow to appear composed and calm. In fact, Draco thought, as he watched her walk back down the steps into the ballroom to retrieve her cloak, you wouldn't be able to tell anything had happened. She looked just as stunning coming down now as she had four hours ago. Granted, there were little signs - the slight flush of her cheeks, the suspicious glitter of her eyes, the shoes abandoned on the stairs as she padded down, barefoot. But even with all of these alterations, or perhaps because of them, as she came closer he had to remind himself to breathe normally.

He cleared his throat. "Granger," he said nervously, and from the surprise in her eyes it was clear she hadn't noticed him standing there. He swallowed. The look in her eyes turned into an unmistakeable glare.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she said harshly, but there was a tremor in her voice that had never been there before. The Weasel must have really upset her, Draco reflected with a rush of anger as he stared at the floor, plucking up the courage to speak his mind.

"Dance with me, Granger," he said eventually, not daring to look up and see what would undoubtedly be a look of shock mingled with disgust on her pretty face. His eyes darted up for a brief second. Yep - her mouth was hanging open. He hastily resumed his study of the floor. Thus followed the longest, most awkward silence of his life.

"You - you're being serious?" he nodded. "Why?" He forced himself to look at her.

"Because," he said, with a small, serious smile, "no one should have to leave the Ball on such a bad note." She frowned.

"But there's no music." She was right - the band had left, as had everyone else, long before. His smile grew into a characteristic smirk.

"Humour me, Granger," and somehow she actually came to his arms with a confused, but real, smile. Some being inside him was roaring with triumph as he guided her outside, to where the fairies were still flitting about the moonlit courtyard, glowing with silvery light. The sky was full of stars, and all the brightness they shone with could not compare to her radiance, he thought. He kept this thought to himself, perhaps sensibly.

She shivered in the December air and he decided to play the gentleman for once, covering her shapely shoulders with his cloak. He had, after all, prevented her from getting hers. She studied him from beneath her dark lashes with a curiosity that made his heart beat ridiculously fast.

"What happened to Mudblood germs?" she queried. He sighed. He would have to answer seriously. This was his one chance to make her believe that he was more than a Slytherin scumbag.

"I'm a Slytherin and a Malfoy, Granger," he explained. "I have to pretend to adhere to that blood purity rubbish, even if it is really stupid, because if I don't I'll get in trouble. And all the pureblood propaganda in the world couldn't stop me from feeling excessively jealous of Krum these past few hours," he admitted.

Her eyes widened. "What?" she said incredulously. "What are you saying?" Looking sheepish, he guided their dance to the side, so they were standing behind a large statue.

"I understand what Weasley is going through," he said. Her eyes narrowed. "Though that definitely does not excuse the way he treated you." She laughed reluctantly.

"And what is Weasley going through?" she inquired. He started sweating.

"I would say that he is struggling to cope with his newfound feelings for you."

"Forgive me if I find all of this a little difficult to believe," she said, as they twirled around the statues. "What are you telling me? Are you actually sticking up for Ron? Does Draco Malfoy have a heart?" He was stung, and felt himself flush with an indescribable feeling as he stepped closer to her.

"Is it so hard to believe that _I_ might - like you?" He could tell that his sudden proximity was making her nervous. It was making him nervous.

"Yes, it's pretty hard to believe, given our history," she smiled slowly.

"And...are you convinced yet?" His hand moved to the small of her back and brought her closer.

"No," she mumbled. She was now pressed against him. He could hear his own heartbeat raging as he brushed his lips against her ear.

"How about...now?" he whispered. Her skin was burning as she shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. He touched his lips lightly to her cheek.

"Still not convinced?"

She glowered at him defiantly and shook her head again, eyes and cheeks blazing with Gryffindor fire. She was aflame, and so full of spirit… "You are beautiful," he told her quietly, as he gently covered her lips with his own. After a moment's hesitation she relaxed into the kiss, and all was silent in the empty hall and deserted courtyard, except for the thunderous beats of their synchronised hearts. She broke away first.

"I believe you," she breathed, and he smiled.


End file.
